"How clever you are," said the Lion, putting his tawny head on one side, and looking admiringly at his queen. "Perhaps telling is the quickest way after all. Well—" Then he stopped, as if to tantalize.
"Well—what? How tiresome you are," said the Lioness.
"They have brought a cageful of humans to the town, and all the Beasts and all the Birds are going to see the show."
"What!" cried the Lioness, so astonished that she could hardly believe her ears.
The Lion skipped right round the parlour three times, snapping his claws like castanets. "Yes," said he, gleefully, "they used to lock us up, and let people pay to see us, and call us Wild Beasts, and Carnivora, and all sorts of ugly names. But times are changed. I wonder how they'll like it? We'll take our little beasts of children to see the show."
"You shouldn't call the little ducks Beasts," said the Lioness. "I wonder you don't call them a parcel of Cubs."
"Well, they are Beasts and Cubs, ain't they?" said the Lion.
"Well, never mind, I won't have them spoken of like that," said his wife. "When will you take me and the darling pets to see this wonderful show?"
"Come now," said the Lion, jingling his money in the purse he carried in the end of his tail.
"Oh, I'm not dressed," said the Lioness.